


But Innocence Is Gone

by Telesilla



Series: This Is My Kingdom Come [5]
Category: Baseball RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Baseball, Chastity Device, Dubious Consent, Explanations, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 07:39:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Madison's confused, but Belt has beer and is willing to explain how things work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But Innocence Is Gone

**Author's Note:**

> I think this still counts as dub-con, so again, if that's not your thing, move on, nothing to see here. It takes place directly after "So This Is Where You Fell."

Madison doesn't really feel safe, even when the door of his own hotel room closes behind him. It's something, though; far better than walking through the visitor's clubhouse with a split lip, a weird thing locked onto his dick and a butt plug up his ass. When he'd come out of the showers, there had been a second of silence and then everyone started talking again. He couldn't even look at anyone because he wasn't sure if people even knew what had happened and he was afraid it showed on his face. The last thing he needed was amusement or pity, so he'd kept his head down and pulled his briefs on before he dropped his towel.

He'd jammed his headphones on and pulled his hoodie up--the universal ballplayer sign for "leave me the fuck alone"--and made it through the bus ride back to the hotel. They'd kicked some pretty serious ass tonight, but when people yelled at him to join them in the bar, he'd turned away and trudged off to the elevators. He probably looked like he was coming off the mound after a horrible outing, which is kind of what this feels like now that he thinks about it.

Of course horrible outings don't involve butt plugs.

Now that he's alone, Madison doesn't quite know what to do. Posey had said he could take the plug out, but he'd also said he'd be putting a bigger one up there later. Madison isn't sure when later is, but he's guessing that it'll be easier if he's a little more prepared, so he should probably leave the damn thing in, at least for a while. He wants it out now though and he wants his dick out of this thing and he really really wants it to be yesterday when none of this had happened yet.

Just sitting down on his bed feels weird--the plug doesn't exactly hurt any more, but he knows it's there and it makes it impossible to forget Posey's words about liking a tight ass. And then there's that thing on his dick. He doesn't really know what to call it, but Posey made it pretty clear why Madison was wearing it.

_You come only when I want you to._

After a long moment, Madison pulls his jeans and shorts off and looks down at his dick. The thing Posey put on him is clearly designed to be worn for a while; it's not cutting off the blood flow or anything and he thinks can shower in it and get pretty clean. He fusses with it for a moment and realizes that he could probably get it off his dick, if he was willing to put up with a lot of discomfort. The discomfort of taking if off, however, is nothing compared to the discomfort he's pretty sure he'd face if Posey found out. Better not risk it.

He's way too wired to sleep, so he finishes getting undressed and pulls on a pair of sweats. He's got scouting reports to go over and his score sheet to check and....

Holy fuck, he's _starting_ tomorrow. At fucking Coors Field, where the ball is really flying. It says a lot about how rattled he is after the encounter with Posey that he forgot for a while.

Will Posey expect him to wear this dick thing while he's pitching? Because he's pretty sure it'll mess with his mechanics and Posey said he wouldn't do that. And what about his face? He heads into the bathroom, hoping he doesn't have to go on to the mound, on camera, looking like he got mugged.

It's not as bad as it feels. His cheek is still red and his lower lip looks a little fat, but the cut is on the inside of his lip and doesn't show that much. He thinks it it'll be okay. The rest of him...he looks tired and a little scared and again, he hopes he won't look like that tomorrow. Hitters can sense blood in the water and he doesn't want to look weak in front of the Rockies.

He splashes water on his face and is just reaching for a towel when he hears a knock at the door. Posey, he thinks and his stomach does that little thing again, like the drop you feel when you're on a rollercoaster. He heads toward the door with no thought of just not answering it. Madison's always found Posey intimidating, even when they were in the minors together, but now he remembers the way Posey looked at Madison's blood on the floor and he has to admit that he's terrified of Posey.

It's Belt at the door not Posey and Madison feels weird about it, like he'd been braced for something awful and now doesn't know what to do with the tension.

"What the fuck do you want?"

Belt holds something up--a six pack of Shiner Bock. "I can go, but I think you could really use a beer."

"You by yourself? Because I'm really not in the mood to have my leg humped by your puppy."

"Ha ha. You act like he really does that, but no, Crawford's not with me. I left him asleep upstairs." Belt scowls at him. "You gonna let me in and my beer in?"

"Fine." Madison stands back and Belt pushes past him.

The beer's cold and Madison concentrates on nothing but that as he swallows half the bottle. When he looks up, Belt's sprawled out in an armchair watching him steadily.

"Thanks," Madison mumbles. "I needed that."

"Figured as much."

Madison slams down the rest of his beer and Belt holds out another one. After another long gulp, Madison sets the beer on the bedside table and sits down carefully on the bed.

"He said," he begins and then starts blinking rapidly...oh fuck no...not this....

"Hey," Belt says. He's suddenly right there on the bed next to Madison and when he wraps an arm around Madison's shoulder, Madison gives up. Turning until his head is on Belt's shoulder, he starts crying, deep harsh sobs that feel like they'll never stop. Belt doesn't say anything, but he's there and he's holding on to Madison and somewhere in the back of Madison's head, he remembers that Belt's been here too. That Belt knows.

In the end, Madison can't cry forever. When he finally stops, gulping in deep breaths of air, he feels better and also ridiculous. "I'm sorry," he begins.

"Should be, you fucking hillbilly," Belt says. "Now finish your beer." He gets up and heads into the bathroom, coming back almost immediately, a damp wash cloth in hand.

"Thanks."

Belt just drops back into the chair and picks up his beer, watching as Madison wipes his face off. The silence is weirdly comfortable and for a moment Madison wishes he could just sit here quietly forever. Belt's always been easy to be around, which is probably how he can put up with Crawford and his various issues. Madison wonders who sat with Belt after he'd been...with Posey. Crawford probably.

"He said...did you ever tell anyone?"

Belt looks at him like he's crazy. "Bum, everyone knows. You don't need to _tell_ anyone."

"Oh...yeah, I guess." Madison had noticed that Belt and Posey had spent time together during spring training and earlier in the season, but then Madison was used to that. Belt spends "time together" with everyone. Hell, he and Madison had hooked up more than once last year, mostly out of boredom or random horniness. Belt gives great head and great handjobs and he's not clingy at all.

Madison leans back a little and then winces.

"He's got you in a chastity thing, doesn't he?" Belt asks. "He likes those."

"Yeah," Madison says, and it's weirdly comforting to talk to someone who's been there. "And...this fucking butt plug."

"Oh yeah? He didn't use those on me much. Not during training, I mean. Sometimes when he knew he wasn't going to want to deal with prep later on. But you're an ass virgin so yeah, he'll having you wearing one a lot. Trust me, you'll be glad of it later."

"Yeah, I've seen him...I mean in the showers and stuff."

Belt smiles. "Yeah and he really knows what to do with it too."

"Fine for you," Madison says with another wince. "You like getting fucked."

For a moment, Madison's sure he's said too much but Belt just looks at him. "You...okay, yeah I get it. You thought you were immune somehow. Safe."

"What do you mean?"

"You're the first pitcher he's taken on, far as I know. Up here in the show, I mean. No one lets him near Timmy, of course." Belt rolls his eyes. "Because Timmy's a precious, delicate, spoiled little brat who will fall to pieces if you look at him the wrong way."

Madison's got no real beef with Lincecum, but he can't help agreeing with Belt on one point--Timmy is spoiled. "Yeah," he says and then, because his beer's gone, "gimme another."

"And, of course Timmy and the rest of the starters are from before his time." Belt gives him a really weird look as he hands over another beer. "Seriously Bum, I know how this team works better than you do. What have you done the last couple of years, kept your head in the sand?"

"I...." Madison frowns. "I just thought...it's Posey, you know? He does what he wants and he's hot so I figured it was just guys fooling around. I dunno, if he'd just come on to me like a normal guy, I might have been okay with it. And, you know, I kind of had bigger things to think about my rookie year."

"Yeah and he was a rookie that year too. And then there was 2011, so I can see how you'd think it was like that, I guess." Belt shakes his head. "Whole damn team fell apart without him to run things."

"Run things?" Even as he asks, Madison is thinking back. Every time something happens in the clubhouse, Posey's in the middle of it. It's been like that since they came up and Madison remembers the way 2011 felt, like they were all in freefall or something with no stability, no safety net. No Posey. "Yeah, I guess."

"He leaves the older pitchers alone and most of the vets at least when it comes to actual sex or physical discipline. Pagan kind of runs the Latin side of the clubhouse for him, although Posey'll get involved there too. There's a reason Sandoval rode a bench in the postseason in 2010."

"I thought it was because he was fat and wasn't hitting."

"Nah, lots of guys are fat and there were other guys who weren't hitting. Panda was missing Molina and slacking off. The beat reporters act like he still does, but Posey put the fear of God in him and that's why he works out all the damn time now."

"Is that why Sanchez, Jonathan I mean, isn't with the club any more?" It's weird, does Posey have that kind of control over front office decisions? According to Belt, he does and while Madison's pretty sure his own future's with the Giants, it's one more reason to be afraid of Posey.

"Yeah. From what I understand Posey didn't like him or his attitude. And Wilson won't be back next year, you can bet the farm on that."

"Why?"

"He'll put up with some grandstanding, like the Beard in 2010 and Huffy's rally thong thing, because he knows the fans like that shit. But when he found out Wilson was trying to hide that his arm was fucked up...." Belt shrugs. "You can get away with a schtick when you're good but when it gets to be bigger than your actual use to the team, you're gone. It's not just our club that's like that.

Madison stares. He feels like an idiot for not noticing the kinds of things that were going on around him. "So why me and why now? I mean he said it was because you...."

"Couple things. He got bored with me, I think." Belt laughs a little. "He likes a challenge and I'm too easy in some ways and too difficult in others. And there's Pence."

"Um yeah, about that...."

"Well, we were getting Pence regardless, but Posey thinks he'll be good for the club and so he kinda sweetened the deal."

"With what, your ass?"

"Dude, he does that all the time. Half the guys I fuck, I'm doing it because Posey tells me to. All the guys on other teams for sure."

"And Pence?"

"I'm not sure yet." But Belt's smiling a satisfied little smile. "He's really good in bed though and he doesn't mind Crawford."

"Did Posey?"

"What, mind Brandon?"

"No, did he...take Crawford in hand?"

"Not exactly." Belt doesn't say anything for a long moment. Just when Madison's sure he's crossed a line into something Belt doesn't want to talk about, Belt sighs. "Look, Brandon's crazy doesn't really match up with Posey's kinks. Brandon's okay with rough sex. I mean really, he's okay with sex in general but the couple of times Posey really started in on him, he just didn't get it. Posey wants obedience but he wants you to be there, you know? And Brandon would take it and then go where...where he goes in his head. He'd come back and just curl up on my floor and go to sleep."

Madison's always wondered and now seems to be the time to ask. "Do you and Crawford...I mean...."

"Do I fuck him? Hardly ever any more. I mean sometimes he gets a little wound up and wants to hump my leg and I usually let him get off, but it's more like he's...." Belt shrugs. "What's it people always say? A dog's a man's best friend? He goes out there, plays the game, does what he's supposed to like any other adult and then comes back with me. I put his collar and leash on him, make sure he eats and has a place to sleep. At least he's housebroken."

Taking a deep breath, Belt adds, "Here's the thing. When I was Posey's boy and did something wrong or when he wanted to make a point? One of the things he'd do was keep Brandon from me. He calls Brandon my weakness--thinks I let him get away with too much--but he also knows that someone has to take care of him or we're out one of the best shortstops to come along in a long time."

"Oh."

"He'll find your weakness too, you know. And he'll use it against you whenever he thinks you need to be taken down."

"How can you be so fucking matter of fact about it?" Madison's been drinking fast and he's finished his third beer and it's suddenly all too much. "He takes your best friend away from you, hands you around to other guys like some kind of fucking party favor, pretty much gives you to some dude you don't know and you're okay with it?"

"Hey, calm down." Belt gets up and comes over to stand by the bed. "You need to drink some water, make sure you've got your scouting reports straight and get some sleep." He leans down and pats Madison's shoulder. 

"Will you...I don't want you to get into trouble if he knows you were here."

Belt gestures at what's left of the six pack. "Who do you think gave me this beer?"

"He sent you over here?"

"He said I should share it with anyone I thought needed it. I can take a hint."

"I don't even know what to think." It's true, because, in a fucked up way, it's like Posey's trying to help or something. He's certainly sent Madison the one person he really needed to talk to tonight.

"Look, Bum...Madison. It's not going to be easy, but...."

Belt pats him on the cheek this time and heads toward the door.

"But what?" Madison asks, even though he's suddenly not sure he wants to hear what Belt has to say.

"It's for your own good. You'll see."

As the door closes behind Belt, Madison stares at it, his hand on his cheek. All the comfort of crying on Belt's shoulder and having Belt explain things is gone, leaving Madison only sure of one thing.

_I am so, so fucked._

_-end-_

**Author's Note:**

> This probably raises more questions than it really answers, which it's supposed to in a way. But the biggest one is probably, "what the the hell, BCraw?" and I should explain that. The Brandon Crawford of this universe has a coping mechanism that will, eventually, be explained when Darkrose finishes up her fic about him. In short, he goes into kind of a puppy headspace when life gets to be too much.
> 
> As always--Darkrose. :) The title is from "Bleeding Out" by Imagine Dragons and wow, did this album come along at the right time or what?


End file.
